


The Usual Suspects

by LJC



Category: Jem and the Holograms (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 01:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9049921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LJC/pseuds/LJC
Summary: Crashing the Starlight Music non-denominational Holiday Party had been a bad idea.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mikant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikant/gifts).



> I want to apologise--I should have checked to make sure my edits "took" before this morning. I feel just AWFUL when I realised that the old unfinished story was still up, instead of your FINISHED present. Long story short: I *do* intend to finish the 1st story (Lock & Key), but had a death in the first week of December, and had to set it aside as I dealt with stuff... And I am so incredibly sorry that you may have woken up to an unfinished draft instead of a completed gift.

Crashing the Starlight Music non-denominational Holiday Party, Stormer realised as sirens wailed in the distance, had been a bad idea. 

Not that it had been her idea. Pizzazz and Jetta had actually come up with it, Roxy had enthusiastically agreed, and Stormer was basically along for the ride at this point.

Though was it still crashing, if you were invited? Sure the Misfits were crashing the party, but Stormer had received her invitation in the mail. After all, Starlight had packaged and distributed her album. Technically, she was a Starlight artist, the same as Jem, the Fifth Ave Boys, and and it had sat unopened for a week beneath a pile of bills and magazines. It wasn't that she'd been dreading it--she'd known it was coming, because it happened all over town, with every label, this time of year. In fact, the Stingers Sound invite had come the same day. She'd opened it immediately, and it was currently stuck to her fridge with a Ziggy magnet. 

They weren't on the same night. No-one was forcing her to choose the Misfits over Kimber. Not officially, anyway. People went to industry parties all the time. It was common ractice to invite everybody who was anybody to launch parties, award show after parties, movie premieres. It was a thing that Stormer had loved when she had first signed with the Misfits--the food, the red carpet, the swag! People gave away all kinds of stuff at these parties, and Pizzazz had to make sure that she always got first pick of the goodies. Whether it was basketball shoes she would never wear, albums she had no intention of ever listening to, perfumes she'd re-gift on birthdays, or watches that stayed in their fancy boxes to tarnish and run down. It didn't matter to her--so long as she had the gift bag to prove she'd been there. That clearly she was a somebody.

The Starlight Music party however did not have swag bags. Or swag of any kind. It wasn't at a fancy hotel or club, where bouncers in sunglasses dutifully checked lists, and barred access via velvet ropes. It wasn't even all that exclusive--the gates of the Starlight Mansion were wide open, and no-one even checked with their driver or asked for an invitation. 

It was a bright and sunny Saturday afternoon in mid-December, where the only snow anyone here had ever seen had either been on a ski slope, or generated by a film crew. It was eighty-five degrees, and the poor guy in the Santa suit at one end of the backyard was probably broiling.

"There are kids," Pizzazz said, as the limo had pulled away, leaving the Misfits at the entrance to the park, standing out like sore thumbs in their finery and war paint, as young children and teens screamed and laughed and chased each other around the pool. 

"There's a petting zoo," Stormer said, delighted, and Jetta elbowed her in the ribs.

"C'mon, Pizzazz--this isn't worth our time."

"No. It's still a party. One that I wasn't invited to."

"OK, but seriously, there are pony rides. It's a kid's party," Roxy was already looking like she was ready to turn tail and run. Especially when an excited nine year old, her father in tow, ran over to Roxy and threw her skinny arms around Roxy's waist.

"Hi, Roxy! I haent seen you since my going-away party!" She gazed adoringly up at Roxy, who looked like she was still gonna bolt, formerly orphaned tyke still attached to her and everything.

Stormer crouched down, and ruffled the kid's hair. "Hey, Ba Nee. It's good to see you!" She gently motioned her over, to Roxy's visible relief. She hadn't left any sticky handprints, at least. That was a plus. From what Stormer remembered of their brief time trying to run Starlight Foundation, kids were almost always sticky.

"Wow, look at how big you've gotten! You look so grown up!"

"I lost two baby teeth!" The kid said proudly, stucking her tongue through the gap in her front teeth. "And I'm in the fourth grade now at school. I was a radish in the school play."

"A radish? Wow!" Stormer said, eyes wide, Ba Need nodded enthusiastically. Behind her, Stormer could see the other Misfits disappearing into the crowd, no doubt hunting for the cocktails, hord'ouvres, and swag bags that almost certainly were not actually at this party. Because this party was clearly more of a family BBQ than a swank event. She sore she could even smell burgers and hot dogs on the warm breeze.

Then she was suddenly staring at a man's knees in khaki chinos. She got to her feet, feeling out of place in her short red dress, surrounded by kids and families in shorts, tee-shirts, jeans and slacks. 

"Hi, Mr O'Carolan," Stormer said, and the bearded man gave her a tentative smile. He still visibly flinched at loud noises, but his gaze when he looked down at his daughter was focussed, and clearly fond.

"I'm sorry--I know we've met before, but I don't remember your name." 

"I'm Mary," Stormer stuck out her hand. "Mary Phillips, though my stage name is--"

"Stormer!" Kimber cried as she crashed into them, throwing her arms around the Misfit gleefully. 

"What are you wearing?" Stormer asked, blowing a chunk of poppy-red hair out of her mouth.

Kimber pulled back, and turned in a circle to show off her ridiculous get-up.

"I'm one of Santa's elves, silly!"

And she was--complete with striped green and yellow tights, red velvet hot pants and waistcoat, green satin blouse, and a jaunty Robin Hood-style cap pinned to her head. There were bells attached to her boots, and they jingled merrily as she moved.

"You look like a giant cat toy," Stormer said, unable to keep from rolling her eyes.

"The kids love it! Well, the Starlight kids, anyway. I think the Haven House kids are a little too old for Santa."

"I hope you've got somebody guarding the punchbowl, cos I'm pretty sure the Haven House kids are hoping to spike the nog."

"Stormer!"

"What? I was practically one of those kids, when I was a kid. Someone has a flask, and someone has access to Everclear. You know it, and I know it."

"You have a point. Raya's brothers are supposed to be in charge of the egg nog table. I should give them the head's up.

In the distance, Stormer heard a familiar shriek, followed by another familiar roar of anger, and winced. 

"So, Pizzazz is here. She thought it was going to be a different kind of party."

Kimber blinked. "What kind of party?"

"Let me put it this way--Eric was nearly escorted out of the Stinger Sound Christmas party by security, after he was found with his secretary and a really stupid amount of coke, in the copy room. And I am never going to Xerox anything in that office, ever ever again. At least not without a hazmat suit."

"Oooooh, that kind of party. Yeah, Jerrica doesn't do those kind of parties. We do these kind of parties." Kimber spread her arms wide to indicate the crowd of teens cheering around a paper mache pinata shaped like a donkey, while a blindfolded Ashley swung an aluminium bat much too close to them instead of the donkey.

"I tried to tell them, but they didn't believe me. Not even when they saw the petting zoo."

There was a long moment where Kimber glanced over at said petting zoo and froze in her tracks. From the expression on her face, Stormer was tempted to look, but knew it would be a mistake

"What is Roxy doing to that llama?" Kimber stage-whispered.

"Oh God, please do not tell me, there are things I'd rather not know."

"You gonna call the cops?"

Kimber shrugged. "I don't think it's illegal. Or even amoral, actually. Just... weird."

"She and Jetta might have pre-partied. Just a little."

Stormer kicked off her high heels, tired of the way they sank into the soft ground with every step. The grass was deliciously cool beneath her feet, and she wasn't worried about stepping on anything sharp. The Holograms weren't the types to litter. Kimber looked like she wanted to join her, but she'd have to change first--or risk ruining her stripey tights. 

Jetta's voice rose over the din, and Stormer really hoped none of the kids decided to add 'wanker' or 'ponce' to their vocabulary after today.

"Aren't you supposed to be helping Santa?"

"Oh, Rio's got plenty of other elves. Lela, Raya, and two of the Alonso boys are elves. They won't even notice I'm gone."

Stormer wasn't so sure of that, as the little girl on his lap burst into loud, bawling sobs, and Raya's bells jingled ominously as she marched over to her brothers, yelling something in Spanish.

Ashley's bat finally connected solidly with the piñata, and kids started scrambling for tootsie rolls and packets of Nerds and cheap smarties that fell to the dirt. So of course, that was when Aja threw Roxy into the pool, and Pizzazz retaliated in her own unique fashion--by grabbing handfuls of sheet cake from the buffet and slinging them at the Holograms.

"So, how've you been?" Kimber asked, completely unfazed by the chaos all around them, and Stormer just laughed as the food fight spilled out into the Santa's Village display, and Raya swung a giant plastic candy cane at Jetta's head.

"Oh you know--" There was a burst of microphone feedback, and then Jem was urging everyone to please calm down, and Stormer looked over to see two Haven House boys tipping the contents of a flask into the punch bowl, "--the usual."


End file.
